


THE LOST ONE

by samsbestgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Bottom Sam Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, First Time, Flashbacks, Kidnapped Sam Winchester, Kinda, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Protective Dean Winchester, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn, Top Dean Winchester, Work In Progress, not hunters AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 02:56:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17215682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsbestgirl/pseuds/samsbestgirl
Summary: They say what happened in the past should stay in the past, but what can you do when the past comes back to haunt you? After a summer vacation gone wrong, leaving these five kids to deal with the loss of their best friend and this one boy mourning his brother's disappearance, how will they cope two years later with having just a shell of the boy they once knew suddenly back to them?





	1. Can't Escape Our Past

**Author's Note:**

> I always wanted to share one of my works with the public and never got around to actually do so because I was afraid, but I feel like the time has come so here it is.  
> I just want to say english is not my first language and this is also my first story of any kind, so please if you notice some grammar mistakes or mistakes in general be kind, I'll do better. There's always room from improvement. 
> 
> I believe Dean to be 22 and Sam 19. 
> 
> This being said, enjoy the story!
> 
> Comments are very appreciated.

The noise coming from the phone in the deafening silence forces Dean to open his eyes immediately. He glances around the room disoriented a few times before realizing the noise is coming from beside his ear. He reaches blindly for the phone, groaning when the pounding in his head only intensifies, remembering the half-broken bottle of beer laying on the floor next to his bed, untouched, almost mocking him. Without looking over the name of the caller, he presses the green button, lifting the phone to his ear. 

"Yes?" he tries to answer without giving himself, or his extracurricular activities, away. You can't hold it against him if his voice comes a little on the rough side. 

"Dean Winchester?" the cold, calculated voice coming from the phone asks, like it's perfectly normal to wake someone up in the middle of the night for whatever stupid reason this may be. 

For a second, Dean contemplates not answering and hanging up. He doesn't need someone's bad jokes. All he wants to do is drink 'till he passes up and gets a night's sleep without the usual nightmares almost embedded into his being this days. Every time he tries to fall asleep, all he sees behind his closed eyelids is his blinding smile. The dimples in his cheeks. It's too much. It's to... he feels like he can't breath. Chocking, falling deeper into the void that his life has become. He can't even recognize himself. He wonders absently if that's a good thing. 

"Yeah, that's me," he says, trying to keep the memories at bay. He was doing just fine, he hadn't been thinking about this for over... an hour. Dean wonders absentmindedly if it still counts since he was sleeping during that time.

"I'm calling from the police station, here officer Lana Carter. Sorry to bother you sir, but we have someone here who claims to be a close relative of yours." 

This sobers Dean up faster than anything. Are his parents in trouble? 

"I asked his name, but all he said is he wants to speak to Dean. Only Dean." says Lana, mildly offended. 

Dean's curiosity is picked. A him? His father is not the kind of men that might end up in arrest for doing God knows what in the middle of the night. Despite this, Dean is up from the bed in a flash and starts dressing even before the girl explains to him what the hell is going on and why he should listen to what she has to say. He enters the bathroom intending to wash away the acrid taste of beer that made itself at home in his mouth. His parents can't see him like this. They don't need this kind of crap laid on them, not after... 

"Dean?" the voice on the other end of the line stops Dean dead in his tracks, his hand going still like somehow it had been frozen just by that little sound. The voice that he wanted to hear every day in the last two years. That voice that he couldn't forget in a million years if he wanted to, the one that has been haunting his dreams every night. 

"S-Sam?" says Dean wrecked, not being able to stop the tremor in his own voice or the little bubble of hope from rising in his chest. 

"Dean..", the voice starts to cry openly now, breaking Dean's heart piece by piece again and at the same time putting it back together. He couldn't let himself believe he would ever feel whole again but now, hearing that soft sound again after all this time, it felt like coming home. 

"If this is a joke, I-" No matter how much he wanted this to be real, he couldn't trust himself. His mind is always playing tricks on him these days, always making him see things that aren't there, things he wishes were true. 

"Please, I need you. I'm-"

That's the moment Dean realizes. It's not a joke, not a dream, it's just... Oh, God, Sam! Sam's alive. Sam's... Dean drops the toothbrush on the bathroom floor, putting on the first pair of shoes he finds, not even caring if they look the same or not, without bothering to pick up his jacket from the place he threw it last night, emerging like a storm from the house. His baby brother... He feels tears threatening to fall, stinging his eyes and he fights not to break down in the middle of the street and cry in relief. He has to be strong. For Sam. 

"I'm on my way, I'm coming. You're okay, oh God, you're okay...," he starts babbling words without meaning, his mind a flurry of activity. If he stops walking now, he'll surely start sobbing like a little kid who just got his present on Christmas morning. 

"Mister Winchester?" the voice changes and Dean immediately wants to yell, to scream, he wants to hear his brother, wants to hear his voice...They can't do this to him. No one can take him away from Dean again! 

"Keep him with you, I'm almost there. And take care of him!" answers Dean sternly, hanging up in her face.

Ten minutes later, Dean storms out of his car, not caring that he probably broke about fifteen different laws just by driving here. He throws the door of the police station open, beginning to yell the second the puts foot inside, glancing every direction, looking for shaggy hair and hazel eyes. 

"I'm sorry sir, you can't..."

"Where is he? Where's Sam?" he demands, without wasting a second to wonder or care if he sounds like a newly institutionalized mental patient. A hand touches his shoulder and he spins around, noticing in front of him a petite blonde staring at him angrily. She frowns. 

"If you want to see him, stop this charade," she says firmly, making it clear she won't accept this kind of behavior. "I suppose you're Dean? The Dean he won't stop talking about?" she demands, checking him over once.

"Yes, I'm his brother, now take me to him," Dean says, not wanting to waste any more time. He already lost enough. 

She seems to ponder the decision in her head for a second, her gaze not wavering, until she decides he's not worth the spectacle and that she'd better do what he says. Lana sighs and beckons him to follow after her. A couple hallways ahead, she stops in front of a door with her hands on her hips. She seems to think for a second if she's doing the right thing and gets to the conclusion that she may as well continue now. What's done is done. She unlocks the door and lets Dean to step in. 

Nothing could have prepared Dean for the sight that greeted him when he entered through that door. The boy he sees is a version of his brother he never wanted to know. The spark in his eyes is gone, replaced by a deep sadness and an emptiness like nothing he's seen before. His clothes are filthy and his hair is a mess, sticking in every direction. He holds himself like he's afraid of everything around him, like the world is up to get him every moment now. When he hears the door closing behind Dean, he flinches and quickly gets up from the chair, turning to look Dean in the eyes. 

The change is immediately noticeable. The relief filling his eyes, how he lets his shoulders drop, like he feels safe, here, in a police station, with the one he'll always consider his protector. Even when he failed. And Dean couldn't be more grateful for that. He open his arms wide and he holds him tightly to his chest when Sam throws himself at him, burring his face in Dean's neck. Dean then lets his tears fall freely. Sam's alive. That's all that matters. It was all that he could hope for the last two years. Someone listened to his prayers. Someone he owes for life. Gladly. 

He feels Sam's shoulders quivering with the force of his tears and he tightens his grip around him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He's aware nothing can turn back time and change what has been, no matter how much he wishes for it, but he also knows that anything that may happen from this moment on, he'll make sure that Sam knows he's safe. He won't let anything happen to him. Never again. 

"It's okay, I'm here, I'm here. 

After Sam has calmed down a little and Dean managed to get a grip on his own emotions, Dean placed Sam carefully on the chair and knelt down in front of him, wiping his tears away gently. 

"Dean," tries Sam to voice his thoughts, "I thought I'd never see you again. I thought they'll..." he stops, realizing his mistake, but too late to take it back now. 

"That they'll what? What are you talking about?" demands Dean puzzled, his mind spinning with the possibilities. What exactly happened to Sam all this time? How did he get here? 

"No, no..." Sam starts breathing heavily, close to a panic attack, and Dean gathers him again in his arms, trying to calm him down. 

"It's okay, hush, hush, I'm here. No one's gonna hurt you again, you don't have to talk about it... It's alright, Sammy." 

Even though Dean's dying of curiosity, he's aware it won't help matters to know what happened to Sam. Sooner or later they're gonna have to talk about it, the police will surely ask, but Dean knows the information is only going to make Dean want to kill someone, or himself. All of this is his fault after all, it's their fault... The others. He'll have to tell the others. But you can't blame him he wants to keep Sam for himself, just a bit more. 

The door bangs open and Dean senses Sam flinch against his chest. He raises his head, and Dean turns around to see who it is. The cop from earlier, Lana, surveys them with her eyes, trying to figure them out. 

"Sorry to bother," she says, although her tone gives her true feelings away, "I tried to put it off for as long as I could, but Sam has to give his statement, to answer some questions,"

"Hold on a sec, Sam doesn't have to do anything," he cuts her off, barely refraining himself from yelling. "I just found him again, look at his condition, if you think I'll let him give a fucking statement you're damn wrong."

"This is the procedure," she replays bored, like she'd rather be anywhere but here. 

"Like hell! All Sam's gonna do is lift his ass from that chair cause I'm taking him home."

"Hold on, after his showing up here twenty minutes ago, I believe he's our responsibility", she starts to argue. "How do we know he's your brother and you're not lying to..?"

"No, Dean, you gotta.. Don't leave, please! Don't leave me with them. He's my brother! Please..." jumps Sam suddenly, cutting her off again. 

"Hey, Sam, look at me, I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here with you," assures Dean, turning to face Sammy and putting both of his hands on Sam's face. 

Dean spins back around, throwing the cop another dark look, not caring what she has to say. 

"We're leaving!" he states firmly. 

She sighs, figuring she can't reason with them. 

"You gotta understand, Sam's arrival here has opened an investigation. You can leave now, I can't stop you, but the police will look for him sooner rather than later to give his statement," she says, raising her hands on the air in surrender. 

"Then we'll deal with them when time comes," Dean says, wishing for a second he had taken his jacket with him when he left home earlier, noticing Sam's shiver and the cold from outside won't do him any good. 

"I believe you two are really close, considering he wouldn't let anyone touch him since he came here. Only you." she says, regarding them absently. 

And not for the first time, Dean wonders what happened to his sweet, happy little brother in the past two years.

-o-

After they got to Dean's apartment and waters calmed down a bit, Dean hands Sam a cup of tea and sits down next to him on the sofa, the TV a soft background noise. Neither one of them is paying attention, anyway. Dean is too caught up studying his brother to pay any mind to things as unimportant as television. And Sam... Sam seems lost in his own thoughts. Not for the first time, he has moments when he seems lost, like small things trigger some strong memories he can't fight off. Dean would give anything to be able to help him, even a little. To take at least some of the pain he's carrying. 

"I'm fine, Dean," says Sam suddenly, like he's somehow sensed Dean's eyes on him. "I mean, not entirely, I don't think I'll ever be, but..." he sighs, setting his mind to not go on and changing the subject. "It's not your fault, not their fault either," Sam starts to say. 

"No, Sammy, don't give me that crap. It is my fault. I was supposed to protect you, I should've... What am I good for if I'm not capable to keep you safe? When..." Dean's fighting the emotions that are threatening to overwhelm him, memories taking over him. 

"Stop that!" argues Sam, putting his free hand on top of Dean's. "Don't go back there. Not... It's no use. I just want you to know that it wasn't your fault and that I... I forgive you anyway. Dean, I thought I'd never see you again and that almost killed me." 

Dean wipes a tear from his cheeks, sick of crying; never in the past two years a day went by without him crying. Sam's here, he has to be strong for him. If Sam doesn't shed a tear, then Dean won't do it either. He moves closer to Sam on the couch, and Sam sets his cup down on the caffe table, placing his head in Dean's lap, letting Dean's fingers tangle absently through his hair. 

"Want me to call mom and dad?" asks Dean, knowing that one of these days he'll have to tell them the news. They can't hide away forever, even if that seems like the best solution for the moment. 

"No." 

And Dean doesn't push the issue, content just to hold his baby brother in his arms and listen to his heartbeat here, close to him, and if he tightens his hold on his arms just a bit to assure himself he's real, then no one can blame him for doing so.

-o-

The ocean breeze blows in his face, making him shiver from the cold. The hunger is now a constant presence in his gut, and no matter how hard he tries he can't make it go away. If he'd only discover the way back to the beach... The others are looking for him. Dean's looking for him, he's got be strong for a little while longer. They will find him. They will get to him. Somehow he finds the situation almost ironical. Wasn't he the one who suggested a nocturne bath in the sea? The one who wanted adrenaline? If someone's to blame here, that's him...

A smell of something burning draws his attention and the feeling of hunger takes a step back, distracting him. He's trying to climb the hill with shortness of breath, hoping to stumble onto some tourists. They'll help him. He's sure of it. He knows Dean's phone number by heart. A smile pulls at his mouth thinking of Dean. He must be worried sick. He'll never live it down after giving him a good scare like this. 

Without noticing he reached the top, Sam looks up to where the smell was coming from and slaps a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming. No! It's just a hallucination. It's from sleep deprivation. It's not... He's fighting back the nausea that threatens to make him puke. The burning flesh of the corpse in front of him is sickening to look at and Sam can hardly stand. He hears a noise from his left and he has the sense of mind to hide behind the nearest cliff he can find. Out of the corner of his eyes he watches how a tall, well build man is flanked from both sides by two other gorillas of a men dressed in all black, the massive man keeping a gun to another -much shorter- man's head. 

"Beg for your life!" the huge men yells and in the deafening silence, the sound has the desired effect. 

"Please, I'm begging you, I'll pay my debt. I just need some time, please!" the other man is crying openly now, and Sam feels his own tears start to spill down his cheeks. He still has his hand clamped over his mouth, afraid he'll make some kind of noise and alert the man of his presence. How did he end up here? 

"It's not good enough!" is the only warning before the man pulls the trigger and the guy is falling into the pit below with a dazzling sound. 

Sam squeaks, so frightened he's screaming without realizing, but it's too late now. He already drew the man's attention. H-He witnessed some guy's death. He's.. He's dead. He died right in front of Sam. His eyes meet the one's of the men with the gun. Those blue eyes that will haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Cold as ice. Then he realized. He has to run. He has to...

He stands up, making a run for it, operating on adrenaline so as not to break down from fear. The survival instinct is stronger. He hears the sound of bullets going off behind him. He knows they're aiming for him. 

"Shoot him, morons! Don't let him get away! 

-o-

Sam wakes up with a start, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. Dean is there, rubbing his back with one hand, telling him it's okay, it was just a bad dream. 

"It was just a nightmare, you're here with me, shh.."

Dean pulls him to his chest and wraps him up gently in a blanket. They fell asleep huddled together on the couch during the movie. It must almost be morning, considering what time they got back home last night. Phones will start going off soon and they'll have to face the world, but there's still time. His number one concern is Sammy. 

"I only have one bed, but I'll sleep on the co-," he starts to say, only to be cut off by Sam's tear-filled voice. 

"No, please. I want... can I sleep with you?" he asks, hope and uncertainty clear in his voice. 

Dean knows they shouldn't. It's clearly frowned upon by the society they live in, but this is their business. Why should they care what people think? This is them, no one else. And if Sam wants to sleep with him, who's Dean to deny him that? It's not like he doesn't want the same thing. A smile breaks on his face and he kisses the top of Sam's head, confirming him without words something he already knew. 

He gets up slowly from the couch and Dean leads them to his bedroom. He settles Sam carefully on the bed and without bothering with other things, he goes on the other side of the bed, climbing in under the covers with his brother. He wants to ask Sam what the dream was about, but it's probably better to wait anyway. A second after he made himself comfortable on his back, Sam snuggles up to him, head on Dean's chest and an arm wrapped around his waist. Dean puts his arm around him and breaths in the smell he loves most in this world. His brother's. 

And right here, in this moment, with Sammy in his arms, Dean fees like the world has finally stopped spinning and settled itself in place and he has hope that they'll manage to face everything as long as they're together. And that maybe, in the end, they'll be alright. Just maybe...


	2. Go Ahead and Cry Little Boy

“I know, Riley, but you can’t come. At least for today. He’s not up to it.” 

Sam sighs, trying to shut out the noises. He can hear Riley screaming from the other end of the line and if grates on his nerves. He downs the rest of his coffe in one go and sits down on the couch, his head on his hands. He can’t help but see the similar manner to his position last night at the police station. All he wants is a little more time. He wants to forget, or at least he wants to pretend he forgot. 

“Shut up for a second, goddamnit. I’m not in the mood for your demanding little persona. You should be thankful I told you in the first place,” he can hear Dean yell angrily. 

It’s not Dean’s fault that they had to notify the others. They are as involved as them, but Sam’s not ready for the questions. He knows he can’t put them off forever, but he might as well try. He winces when the pounding in his head only increases in volume when he moves in a new position. He’s grateful for the lack of nightmares besides the one from earlier that night, but the headache doesn’t go away. This can’t be normal. 

“And you’ll see him when he’s ready for it. Tell the others the same thing. And god help me, if you show up here I’m gonna kick your ass out on the sidewalk, you hear me?” and with that, Dean snaps the phone shut, throwing it on the bed in a fit of anger. 

Sam knows this ain't easy for Dean. Hell, nothing has been easy for Dean in the past two years. He could see all the evidence he needed when he looked around, starting with the half-broken bottle of beer next to his bed. And Sam... Well, he’d rather not think about the last years. The past should stay buried. It’s for the best. 

“You okay?” He feels the couch dip under Dean’s weight and Sam forces himself not to look up into his face. He knows what he’ll see if he does and it breaks his heart to know he was the one who caused his brother so much pain. Unintentionally, of course, but maybe he could have prevented all of this from happening. If only he wouldn’t have gone into the damn sea in the first place. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten lost and witnessed-

Sam shakes his head as if to clear it and takes a deep breath. He can’t break down, not after all this time. He’s stronger than that. He thought... He thought being back home would make everything better, easier, he didn’t count on the pain to still be there, right under the surface, waiting for the right moment to swallow him whole. 

“I will be.” It’s the best he can offer. He raises his head then, noticing Dean’s tired expression. 

“I don’t know-“ And Sam gets it. Dean wants to make everything okay, of course he does. His big brother instincts and all that, but he can’t, and it’s slowly but surely killing him inside. Sam can see it on his face. 

He reaches out and takes Dean’s hand in his. They were always closer than what was socially acceptable for siblings, that hasn’t changed, although they hadn’t shared a bed like last night since they were kids, not to mention holding hands. There was never a reason to do so. Maybe that’s what they were waiting for. A reason. A hell of a reason. 

“You don’t have to do anything, I’ll-“

“Geez, Sam, don’t you understand? I want to be able to do something. I want to go back in time to that bloody day and figure out a way to set everything right. I want to be strong enough to find you when you disappeared instead of going back home to mom and dad like a good-for-nothing loser, feeling sorry for myself.” Dean snaps, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with every exhale. 

Sam flinches like he’s been slapped and wipes a stray tear away from his cheek. He’s tired of crying. He’s tired of everything. All the pain, the anguish, and the fear, oh god, the fear. He wants it all to go away. To stop haunting him. 

“Oh god, Sam-“ Dean tries to say something, but the words won’t come out. He’s fucked up big time. Instead of doing something to take the pain away, he caused even more. “I’m so sorry, I never-“ 

Sam cuts him off, efficiently stopping his attempts at apologizing. “No, it’s- Dean, you don’t know how badly I want the stuff that happened to just disappear into thin air like they never existed, but it’s pointless. You have to stop beating yourself up over this, cause it’s not your fault. I thought we made that clear last night. I was the one who suggested-“

“And I should have said no. Because I didn’t, look what happened.” Dean’s shoulders drop, all the fight draining out of him. He looks miserable, sad and it’s all Sam’s fault. Maybe if he resisted longer that damned day, if he didn’t let himself caught- 

“The past two years,” Dean starts, looking everywhere but at Sam. “the nightmares, the pain- it wouldn’t go away. Everywhere I looked I could see your face and I wondered how could I let this happen. I prayed and I prayed ‘till I had no words left and when I got no answer, no miracle, I just wanted to die- I wanted everything to stop.” He admits, closing his eyes against the memories like a shield. 

Sam can’t listen to this. It’s too much. He feels like he’s suffocating, like the world is closing in on him. All this time, the only thing that kept him going was the thought that one day he’ll get back to his brother, that one day he’ll see his beautiful green eyes again. But he never stopped to consider how Sam’s absence was affecting Dean. 

Sam shifts closer to Dean and buries his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent, trying to comfort Dean as much as himself. “I’m here, I’m okay now.”

Being this close to Dean stirs feelings in Sam that he thought he buried long ago. Emotions that he didn’t let himself feel, or even name, scared that putting them out in the open like that, even for just himself, will make them somehow more real and unavoidable. Sam realizes now that he never truly escaped them. They were right there, getting bigger and bigger, forcing Sam to admit things he wasn’t ready to admit. 

Maybe if he’d grow some balls and men up for this once and admit what he already knew to be true. He was in love with his brother. And it would never go away. He had two years to test that theory, and that statement was the realest thing he had to hold onto in a world full of violence and terror, in the darkest of moments. No matter how wrong and sick they say it is, it couldn’t more right for Sam. 

And Dean- Well, Dean didn’t have to know. What he doesn’t know, can’t hurt him. 

-o-

The door bell pulls Dean out of his musings, startling him and making him drop the TV remote. He glances over at Sam, looking at him with the same confused expression that he probably wears right now. He thought he told Riley to stay away, that Sam needs a little time. He’s seriously gonna rip him a new one if he came here. 

Dean gets up from his place on the bed, throwing on a shirt on his out. When he opens the door, he’s surprised to see Lana, the cop from the police station, and another police offer, a boy with longish hair and a severe look on his face that makes Dean want to take a step back. 

“Bad time?” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting up like he just said the best joke in the world. Dean barely refrains from rolling his eyes, and settles on glancing at Lana, waiting for the reason of this unexpected visit. 

“I told you he’ll have to answer some questions,” she explains, looking a little nervous like she knew he won’t like what she has to say. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little too soon?” Dean tries not to sound too accusing, but he feels like he’s going to lose his temper any minute now. At least if she had to come, she could’ve brought someone less terrifying with her. This won’t make Sam talk. 

Dean knows when he’s fighting a losing battle, so he moves from the door and lets them step in, taking a deep breath when they can’t see him. Exactly what they needed. 

When Dean turns around to face Sam, a stab of guilt pierces through his heart, Sam’s face having gone white as a sheet of paper and he looks like it hurts just to breath right now. He can see the fear and the panic trying to claw their wait out and Dean is there next to him in a heartbeat, anchoring him to the present. He knew this would be hard, but he didn’t expect him to be this freaked out. 

“Hey, look at me, they just want to ask you some routine questions, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he’s quick to assure, squeezing his arm like he can sent some of his strength through that single touch. “I’ll be there every second.” 

-o-

“Before we start, we found this at the door,” Lana says twenty minutes later, handing Dean a white envelope, “I think it’s for you.” 

Dean doesn’t even glance at it twice before setting it on the coffe table, his focus on his brother. Kyle, the other police officer, is studying both of them silently, a notebook on his hands, ready to write down anything that might help the investigation. Dean’s arm hairs stand on edge just from feeling that cold gaze on him, he can’t even begin to fathom what’s like for his brother, who holds himself as still as possible, his body tense and anxious. 

“So, Sam,” Lana starts, her voice lively, trying to make it easier for Sam, who looks like he might bolt any minute now, and for that, Dean’s grateful. “Care to tell us how did you exactly end up at the police? Someone gave you a ride?” 

“N-no, I walked.” He says quietly, trying to be as short as possible on his answers. Dean knows when Sam sets his mind on something, you can’t turn him around. 

“You walked?” Lana’s eyebrows raise up at that, sharing a look with Kyle, who just shakes his head like he wasn’t expecting anything more. “Where were you coming from?” 

“Ahm... California, I believe.” 

“California? That’s a long way to walk,” she comments. “We went trough our records before we came to see you,” she pulls a file from the suitcase next to Kyle, “you’re Sam Winchester, the boy who disappeared two years ago during a summer vacation with his friends. And his brother,” she says, pointing at Dean. 

“That’s right.” Sam says, uptight, his eyes moving across the room like he doesn’t know where he’s supposed to look. 

Lana sighs, dropping the file on the table with a loud thud. “Sam, you have to help us here. Where were you this past two years? Did somebody took you in until you got around to leave?” 

“I-“ Sam stammers, seeming to decide on the best way to answer. His palm are sweating and he’s fidgeting in his seat. “I tried looking for them. I was so tired and hungry. I tried to find the way back to the beach.” He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to continue. “The tide carried me to... I don’t know- I think to another beach close by, but I didn’t know witch way to go-“ 

He starts breathing rapidly and Dean reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder for support. He wants to tell them to fuck off, to leave them alone, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wanna know more.

“I got lost,” he admits. “And then I thought I’d stumbled upon some tourists, but-“ a tear falls from his eyes and he wipes it away quickly. “I can’t-“ 

“Take a deep breath,” says Lana, a part of her affected by his pain. She could see that something happened. It was her job after all, to know when bad stuff happens. But this kid seemed more than scared, he looked frightened, like whatever he’s seen did something to him. His innocence, lost forever. 

“He died- He died right in front of me, and then I tried to run. I tried to escape. They were shooting at me, I thought they were gonna kill me. I hid, but they were just too strong and-“ he was hyperventilating now, talking so fast they were barely able to catch something. The tears were falling freely now, the memories too much to bare. 

“Sam, Sammy, look at me, look at me-“ Dean forces Sam to turn his head towards him, trying to pull him back to the present. What he heard was enough to send chills through Dean’s whole body. He doesn’t even want to imagine. He can’t think. No. 

“I wasn’t strong enough and he caught me – he – those eyes – they were so so cold-“ he sobs against Dean’s chest now, and Dean closes his eyes, forcing himself to calm down, to be strong. But it was getting harder and harder to be strong. 

What he learned right this second, he wishes like hell he didn’t. The anger, the sorrow, the knowledge that someone hurt his baby brother. He’d kill them all if he could. Right this second. Dean couldn’t find his brother at the right time, and look what happened. What he let happen, unaware or not. 

“Shh, shh, I’m here, you’re with me.” He cradles him closer, rocking him in his arms and throwing worried glances at Lana, begging her with his eyes to stop this right now. Can’t they see what is doing to him? 

“Did they kidnap you?” says Kyle suddenly, like he doesn’t care about what Sam’s going through, hard as steel. 

Sam only starts crying harder and it’s all the answer they needed. Lana signals to Kyle and he picks up his suitcase, dropping the notebook inside unceremoniously. “Sam, I’m so sorry for everything, but we need to know- What did they look like, do you remember?” 

Dean’s anger spikes another notch at that and he stands up, raising his finger in her face. “I don’t care, get out! Now.” She holds his gaze for a moment, before making the decision to do what he says. She’ll need their help later. 

“The others-“ she says when she gets to the door, “I believe you told them?”

“I did,” Dean says tightly. “If you want them to go through their statements again, go ahead. But leave Sam out of it. Or we’ll have a problem.” 

“This isn’t over, you know? We’ll need his help if we want to find out who did this. I suppose you want the same thing.” 

“Oh, believe me, we’ll find out who did this. And they’re gonna pay.” Dean says, his voice like steel cutting through the air. “But Sam needs to get better first.” And with that, he shuts the door in their faces. 

“I’m sorry, I’m- I wanted to tell you, I just-“ Sam’s voice cuts through the fog in Dean’s head and he hurries over to him, wrapping him up in his arms and holding tight, not wanting to let go. 

“It’s okay, we’ll figure this out.” And Dean doesn’t know if he said it to reassure Sam, or himself. 

-o-

The sandwich on the table sits untouched, neither one of them caring about food. Sam is focused on a point behind the TV, not seeing anything, lost in his own head, and Dean – Dean is closer to a meltdown with every passing second. He never thought... Not even a second did it pass through his head that something like this might’ve happened to his brother. His baby... He-

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he says for a lack of something better to do. He can’t sit around, watching the emptiness in his brother’s eyes without going crazy and punching something, anything. 

Sam flinches when Dean gets up and he closes his eyes against the sadness that overflows him. He knew Dean would get like this. That’s why he didn’t- It’s pointless now. He knows. Not all of it. And it's gonna stay that way if it's up to Sam. His brother doesn’t need that burden. He blames himself enough as it is. 

Sam sighs, wanting to lay down for a second until he sees it. The envelope. He frowns, noticing his name written in capital letters on the front. He picks it up, checking it over like it might hold the answers to all his questions, including what’s on the inside. 

He rips it open, finding only a white sheet of paper, neatly folded, waiting to be read. He turns it over and what he sees makes him gasp and nearly scream out loud. No, it can’t be- 

He couldn’t have found him. Not now. Not after everything. 

Sam falls on his knees on the floor, those three words chilling every bone in his body. 

I SEE YOU


End file.
